Ordinary Day
by Chocolate Usagi
Summary: Jean Havoc reflects on the death of a friend.


Yo, all. CU again. I know you're all getting tired of me starting fics then abandoning them to start new ideas, but I have a wandering mind, gosh darn it! Well, this idea came to me while I was taking the PSAT's (my GOD). The fic is mostly from Jean's POV. And I would just like to state that I don't own FMA or any affiliated characters; Hiromu Arakawa does. The end.

Ordinary Day

--

I never liked black. If black had a smell, I think it might be something like burnt metal. For some reason, whenever I'm wearing black, I feel naked. Or, rather, whenever I'm wearing anything besides my uniform, I feel naked. I guess I'm just so accustomed to wearing it.

Maybe it's not the suit. Maybe it's the setting. Most people associate a black tux like this one with one of two things- a wedding or a funeral. Guess what? I'm not at a wedding.

I've always hated funerals. When my brother died when I was eleven, I promised myself I'd never attend another funeral besides my own. I didn't even go to my dad's. Not that I wanted to.

Still, here I am. Life in the military isn't capable of compromise. I've seen too many of my colleagues die in battle. I've gone to too many funerals. Except, I've told myself they weren't funerals, but business trips. That's how I deal with it.

But this is a funeral. I'm not standing at attention, I'm sitting on a cold, uncomfortable metal chair in someone's backyard. I'm not surrounded by other blue-clad, emotionless soldiers, but by weeping family members and friends reminiscing about the time they bet their buddy twenty bucks to stick his head in the hole in the fence he promised to fix and it got stuck. I'm surrounded by pictures of a man I'd only seen in a tightly-buttoned navy blue military uniform. He looks slightly out of character laughing so nonchalantly in a red T-shirt and slightly baggy jeans.

I look to my right. Seated in the front row is a woman. Her curly mass of disheveled brunette curls gush down her back and over her face. She's wearing a long-sleeved black dress. It's wrinkled. A lot. She's hunched over with her face in her hands. She's sobbing uncontrollably.

I feel bad because I can't cry.

A young girl, likely in her teens, cautiously approaches the woman. She has thin, dark brown hair pulled into a messy braid that runs down her back. Her eyes are a deep chestnut color. They're dry, but it's apparent she's been crying recently. She's wearing a black satin top and black slacks. She seems much more composed than the older woman, but I can tell she's acting.

The young girl places a hand on the woman's shoulder. She seems startled at first, then turns to her. The girl offers a box of tissues, and the woman graciously accepts. As she turns to wipe the stream of mascara from her cheeks, I get a glimpse at her. Thin face, brown eyes, mid-twenties, beautiful. I can tell she tried to do her make-up this morning, but never got past her eyes.

I guess the reverend has been speaking this entire time. I only just notice him as he clears his throat.

"I will now open the pulpit to anyone who would like to say a few words in honor of the passing of our dearly departed."

The young girl whispers something to the woman and ambles over to the podium. She pauses for a moment to survey the crowd.

"Um, hi. I'm…Gwen. Kain was my big brother."

Her voice cracks. She forces it down. No tears.

"When our mom died, it was just him and me. I mean, we had brothers, but they were all so much older than us. I was seven, so Kain was…thirteen. He did his best to keep our house, but he couldn't afford it with just a part-time job. When he graduated, he couldn't go to an expensive college. He went to work for a year before he decided to join the military. …Honestly, I didn't believe him at first. Kain always told me he wanted to be a vet, so joining the military was just so…un-Kain. But it was reasonable. After he served some time, they'd pay for him to go to college. He could get a job at a veterinary clinic where he could save up more money for us to get a real house. He said he would send me to college so I could be a teacher. He…always wanted what was best for me."

She stops, takes a deep breath, and bites her bottom lip. Still no tears.

"When I first met D.C., I knew she was the one for him. She was just so…cool. She was like an awesome older sister, and I always wanted a sister. When those two were together, all Kain could do was smile. I'd never seen him so happy as the day he invited December over for dinner. Sure, the roast burnt, the rolls were soggy, and the salad was ridden with ecoli, but it didn't matter. …I was really happy when D.C. asked me to be her maid of honor at their wedding. I just…I wish they had the chance…"

She scans the crowd once more, gives a half-smile, and stumbles to her seat next to the brunette woman. The woman pats her hand and gives her a tight hug. The woman then stands up, staggers a bit, regains composure, and begins to make her way toward the podium.

"D.C., you don't-"

"No. I do, Gwen. I have to do this."

I finally get a better look at the young woman. Dark circles encase her eyes. Her face is pale and her cheeks are sunken. She covers her mouth with a thin hand and squeezes her eyes shut as a fresh trail of tears falls down her face.

She's silent for the first thirty seconds.

"C'mon, D.C…. You can do it…"

One minute.

"I'm sorry…" she mutters before she starts off. Then, as a afterthought, she slides back to the podium and hurriedly says, "I'm pregnant."

Half the crowd gasps aloud and the other half is stunned into silence. Gwen starts crying.

"Yeah. I am. Actually, I told Kain the day before…it…happened. My God…he was so happy… He told me that h-he wanted a little girl, so, I'm hoping. …I like the name Anna, but Kain said that he liked the name Kheren. Hn. He looked kinda mad when I told him that 'Kheren' wasn't a good name. Um, I'm gonna name her Kheren…"

Someone blows their nose.

"Jeez, I must look terrible, huh?"

She cracks a tiny smile as she attempts to run a hand down her frizzed hair.

"I still can't believe he's gone… Hn. Ya know, I'm not really a crying person. But Kain…he's the only person who can make me cry. There's only two times in my life where I can remember crying. One is right now, and the other is the night Kain proposed to me."

Her eyes finally stray to the one area to her right where she's been purposely avoiding. The casket. It's a fine casket-- dark redwood. The woman, December, steps down from the podium and over to the casket. Her eyes narrow slightly and her fingers run down the grain. One tear slides down her chin and falls to the casket.

"We were supposed to be so happy. You promised me…you promised you loved me enough for forever…"

Her mouth twists and she slowly falls to her knees, delving into sobs and inaudible utterances. Gwen and an elderly man rush to her and help her to her seat.

"No, Gwen, Daddy, just let me go. I just…I want to be with him…"

Like I said. I hate funerals. Too many emotions. Too many harsh, raw, real emotions. They make you wake up and actually have to deal with things, instead of bury yourself under mounds of paperwork. These peoples' lives will never be the same. Not like in the military. In the military, we don't go to funerals. We go on business trips. In the military, we stand at attention, we don't sit on metal chairs. In the military, when a comrade dies in battle, it's not the end of the world. It's just another ordinary day.

--

Ooh, drama! I like Jean. I think he's a nifty narrator. Nifty and spiffy. Yeah. So, did y'all like it? I really hate reading fics where authors add in original characters, but that's mostly because they're all such…girls. Am I right? Man, I really hope D.C. and Gwen aren't…girls. … Wait. Well, anyway, WHAT UP?! Reviews give me sustenance, and I accept flames, so FLAME ON!!

P.S.- I'm watching The Avatar. 3


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